The Curious Dance Attendees (~BBW, Feeding, Romance, XWG)

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~BBW, Feeding, Romance, XWG – Melissa's night at a plus-sized dance spurs some big changes.

The Curious Dance Attendees
By Anonymous

(Migrated from the Weight Room Anonymous Archives.)

It seemed like a long time ago when I went to a fat friendly dance in the "trendy" part of New York City. To those of us who live outside the area, any of the people may be considered weird. Perhaps curious or adventurous would be a better term. These people are certainly nice – just a little different. Two people whom I will never forget were named Melissa and Kelly. They were two thin women who came to the dance, not because they were large, and not because they preferred large partners. They came just to see what it was like, and to break the monotony of life in the Big Apple.

I was there with my girlfriend, when Melissa and Kelly asked if the other seats were vacant. They then made themselves comfortable, and had a lot of questions for us. I guess that they figured a couple would be the best people to ask, since we weren't running up all night finding someone to dance with. They explained that they were bored and just wanted to see what it was like. After answering a couple of questions for them, such as the group, the concept of FAs, etc.; we asked them how they enjoyed it.

They were very impressed about the way the people moved, and how they felt good about themselves. I guess a lot of stereotypes were broken that night for them. But the thing they liked the most was the camaraderie of the people. They said that they had been to hundreds of dances, and whether it was a general dance, or a dance sponsored for a specific group of people, nobody seemed to enjoy themselves as the fat people did.

I didn't really expect to see them there again. However, when my girlfriend and I went the following month, they were there again. They sat with us again, and again commented how friendly everyone was. They had danced with some of the men. They were very pretty, so even some of the FAs didn't mind dancing with them. The fat men also loved dancing with them, and asked them to dance. Some of the women were a bit jealous, but Melissa and Kelly were almost too nice to hate, and they explained to the women that the FAs were just being polite, since they wouldn't be interested in thin women.

My girlfriend and I were regulars of the monthly dances, and so were Melissa and Kelly. It wasn't until the fourth or fifth dance when my girlfriend and I came to the same conclusion. "Aren't they getting bigger?" Even though we were friendly towards them, it wasn't something we could bring up. However when they were talking to each other, one commented on how the FAs were taking an interest in them just a little more.

They then looked at us and said, "Well, we didn't intend to get any bigger, but we both just kinda stopped watching what we ate. We don't care if we get fat, we don't care if we get thin. Your group has shown us that size just doesn't matter." They certainly were a long way from any other large person's size. Melissa's breasts were a little bigger, and she now had a tiny spare tire under them. Kelly's tummy had made her dress not quite close right.

The next month, Kelly had found a fat man who really hit it off well with her She spent the night dancing with him. My girlfriend and I spent much of the night talking to Melissa. Each was a little bit plumper, although it wasn't as obvious, since they had gotten clothes that fit better.

My girlfriend and I were drifting apart. We finally decided it would be better to split. There were no arguments. She wasn't into the dances, like I was, so I knew without me, she wouldn't go. I went to the next dance. The only part I dreaded was explaining to the regulars 100 times what happened. Kelly came with Tom. She was the first I had to explain. Then Melissa came, I had to explain it again. We all sat together. Melissa said she would try to find me another girlfriend. I thanked her for her concern and said that if I found one, great, if not it would be OK.

Melissa then suggested that I stay over, and she would show me New York the next day. I was a little hesitant, staying over at an apartment of someone I wasn't involved with. She talked me into it, and I thought it would be nice to have something to do the next day.

I slept on the couch; she slept in her room. We got up fairly early, and she fixed breakfast. I thanked her for her hospitality and said that I owed her a favor. She said that she wanted to cash in the favor right away. I asked her how, and she said she wanted advice. She said that she wanted to know what made FAs tick. I told her some of the things I told her the first night, and she said that she knew all that stuff. "I want to know all of the intimate details."

I told her that most FAs liked large women, and got turned on when they gained even more. Melissa wanted to know how big. I told her that there were as many preferences for size, as there were sizes. She asked if men would like her at her present size. I explained that most men who went to the dances liked larger women. She asked about who would like her now, and I told her that there wasn't really one place where they hung out.

She asked if she weighed 200 pounds, how many men would like her, what would she look like, etc. Then she asked about 250. When she asked about 300, I told her my ex-girlfriend weighed about that, so she would look like her. She then asked about 400 pounds. When I was describing what her body would look like and how she would be wearing a size 60 dress, she could tell I was getting aroused.

When we were sightseeing, she was teasing me about her gaining weight. She felt that being that size was so far from reality, she could kid about it. However, even though I was walking with someone who was only around160, the combination of her flirting and my picturing her at 400 pounds, I felt very comfortable with her.

On the way home, she stopped at the grocery store. She jokingly threw all kinds of fattening food into her cart. She then said she'd better put the food back. I squeezed her hand, and jokingly said she would disappoint me. She then said, "Oh hell, why not?" She took her cart to the checkout.

That night was probably one of the most erotic nights I ever had, especially considering she was so thin, and we didn't go all of the way. I would serve her one food after another. I fed her ice cream, and explained how her tummy would expand and push her legs apart. I fed her candy bars, and explained how her breasts would grow out and then their weight would cause them to rest on her midriff. She was getting excited, too.

When it was time to say good night, we felt very good. But I think we both didn't know where we stood, or where it would go. She knew I liked large women and she wasn't large.

I called her on Monday night and let her know that I enjoyed the date. I could tell that she was really happy that I called. She told me how much she enjoyed Saturday night. I told her that she may not be so happy when the treats starting "showing." She said she didn't care. I asked her if she could say that when it did show.

She called me on Thursday, to tell me that her pants barely buttoned and her blouse was tight. I told her that I knew she wouldn't be happy. "Be happy?" she said. "I'm ecstatic. When I feel my pants push into my tummy or see my tight blouse, I think back to Saturday and our special time."

I had asked her out for the following weekend, and she said yes before I could even finish asking. I got there early on Saturday. We talked during the morning, and did lunch and a movie during the afternoon. At night, she cooked dinner. I noticed she had more groceries than her cabinets would hold. After dinner, we sat down on the couch with soft music playing. She said, she was concerned that certain feelings and events couldn't be duplicated, yet some people try and then ruin the memories. I told her that whatever comes naturally should be the rule.

She walked to the kitchen and brought a bag back to the couch. I wanted to issue a disclaimer that she didn't need to gain weight for me, etc. But I was afraid it would spoil the moment. Instead, I started by touching her slightly larger breasts, midriff and tummy. She made some approving noises, and then reached down and handed me the food to feed her. She whispered that she wanted to know what the calories will do to her body. I explained how tight her clothes would get and how she would grow. She told me that she needed to get new clothes the next day. We kept going at it until late in the night

When we woke up Sunday morning, I asked Melissa what she wanted to do. She said, "I thought we were going clothes shopping." I told her that I thought that was part of her attempt to excite me. "It might excite you, but there's no more room in here as she patted her tummy. I can't go out to go shopping if I can't button my pants."

I gave her my "you don't have to gain for me" talk. She told me she knew it. "I can't promise you how far this will go. I don't know how big I'll get if I'll want to keep eating, etc. Right now, I know it just feels right. When it stops feeling right, I'll stop."

We went shopping. She was still small compared to the women I know. She was at the upper end of the missus sizes and was still shopping at normal size stores. After she bought a couple of outfits, we stopped at Friendly's for lunch. She ordered a large sundae. "Just remember we're in public. You can't use visual aids to show me where this will end up."

I grabbed her hand, and told her that since yesterday's meal would fill out her hips, the sundae would make her fingers fat as I massaged them.

We were seeing each other more frequently. She gained around 10 pounds per month, and four months later she had hit the 200-pound mark. She had her first taste of the large size stores and loved shopping there with me. She had gone from a 34B to 36B and now was a 38C. She loved the way she felt in her larger bra.

Our feelings were getting stronger. She was coming down to visit me, and now we were seeing each other at night during the weekdays. Between her ability to eat more and her more frequent visits, she was up to around 15 pounds per month average gaining. She kept plenty of food around her house, as I did mine for her visits.

It was fun watching her travel through the 200's. Some of our visits were strictly devoted to her eating from beginning to end. She would eat until she almost gagged, and then she would get excited, as I inspected the changes her body was going though, and comment on them. Of course, one of the biggest changes was going from saying what was going to happen to saying what did happen.

When she hit around 230, she commented on how often she had to replace her clothes. I suggested stretch pants and big tops. She asked me if I could get turned on if I didn't see her outgrowing her clothes. I told her that stretch pants turned me on because they were usually worn by women who were gaining fairly rapidly. "It's kind of an affirmation of a rapid weight gain. Kind of like maternity clothes, except it's not just for the tummy."

She went home and tried them on. She stuck her hand inside and pulled them out a foot in front of her. "It will take me forever to get this big," she said. I told her that her butt would be fighting for some of the available space, so her tummy didn't have to fill all of the void.

She grabbed a bag of snacks with one hand, held my hand and led me to the couch with the other and said. "We've got a lot of room to fill, so we'd better get busy." We spent the night trying to fill her new pants.

The next time we met, she was wearing a dress. I didn't want to be the one to tell her there was no way she could go out in public in it. One good sneeze and it would be shredded to rags. She said that she loved the stretch pants, but needed a stretch dress. I told her "floats" is what women wore who needed extra room.

"Float?" she said.

"Well, most people call them tent dresses," I said.

"What purpose do they serve?" she asked.

I had forgotten that she hadn't been a large lady all that long and didn't know all of the ins and outs. I told that they usually served two purposes. One was to allow room for expansion like her stretch pants. The other was to hide different parts of the body, to let everything just hang there. She said she didn't understand the last. I told her that for women around 400 or so, that their bodies were different.

"How's that?" she asked. I told her that there may be a foot or so difference between parts. That perhaps their butts may stick out a foot further than their backs. Or that some women were too big to wear bras, so they just let their breasts hang in their dresses, or that their tummies might hang to their knees. It all just gets hidden under their dresses.

She couldn't tell that I was getting excited just talking about it. "So, did you date women like that?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Well, I guess everyone has their upper limits," she said. I told her that I just never happened to meet someone that size. "So, if I ever got that big, you wouldn't mind?" I think she meant it as a hypothetical question, but by that time I was so excited. I grabbed her and hugged her tight and kept saying no no no, I wouldn't mind.

She said a very surprising, "Hmmm."

"Well, like I said, I don't know if this will always feel right, and I still can't promise I'll reach a certain size. But the size I see myself keeps going up. Maybe the next lady who asks you if you ever dated a lady over 400, you'll answer yes." I told her that I wasn't looking for the next lady.

"Well, maybe next weekend we can look at dresses, but right now I'm VERY hungry," she said. We had the dinner that she cooked, and then she did her usual snacking while we sat together at the couch. "Tell me what I'll look like if I weigh 400 pounds," she said. She sounded more excited than I felt earlier.

It took a few more months to reach the upper 200's. In each meeting she tried harder to eat just a little more than she did before, and always succeeded. Her body was getting quite interesting. She was developing new rolls. We had bought some new tent dresses, to allow her growing body plenty of room for expansion. One thing that she couldn't get big ahead of time were her bras. She had continued to grow, going from her 38C to a 40C, to 42C. As she approached 300 pounds, she had graduated to a 44D. Her growing sizes brought stronger straps, wider backs and sides, and of course bigger cups. But despite all of changes in the style of her bra, nothing could stop gravity as her breasts and midriff grew closer together.

I remember the night when we were about to start her feeding. She asked me, "Can you tell me EXACTLY what I'll look like when I hit 300?"

I said, "Not exactly."

She said, "Well, I can."

"How?" I asked.

She unbuttoned her dress, which had only a few buttons and flashed me. She than sit down on the couch and started to lay out her snacks. I sat next to her, starting to caress her, and was so excited. "Oh my god, you're really 300 pounds," I said.

"Yes," she said in a sexual way. "I never thought I'd get this big. I don't know how big I'll get, but this just feels so right. But now I need to plan beyond this point. These pants are holding more tummy than they were designed to hold. My big tops are beginning to feel like stretchies. I can probably find a size or two higher at the mall. But what do I do next?"

I told her that I would order some catalogs in her name, and would bring some old ones over for her to look at. We spent the rest of the night admiring the last 100 pounds she gained, and worked on satisfying her growing appetite. She came to my place on our next visit, so she looked at the catalogs at my place. She was awed by the attractive ladies and how happy they looked. I think that cemented her desire to continue gaining.

"Wow," she said, "These clothes go up to size 70. How many pounds is that?"
I told her about 500 pounds or so. "Well, I don't think I'll get that big, but it's nice to know that I'll always have something that fits."

She then looked at the rest of the catalogs. She said she'd keep buying mall clothes, and by the time she outgrew those, she'd have her catalogs and everything ordered.

I loved to watch her eat, but I think she not only surprised me, but herself, in the amount of food she was able to put away. We went shopping at the mall to get her larger clothes, but she made it as quickly as possible to avoid cutting too much into her eating time. She really didn't overeat any time other than our sessions on the couch where we combined heavy petting with heavy feeding. Watching the weight creep on turned us both on.

Melissa remained friends with Kelly, although they didn't see each other that often. They kept in touch on the phone. Kelly was still seeing her friend, and their relationship was also going well. Everyone made plans to attend the next dance. It had been quite awhile since any of us had gone.

Kelly and Bill had gotten there first. Kelly was only a little larger. But Melissa got all of the admiring stares as we came in. Some people didn't recognize her. Some FAs went gaga when they saw her 100 pounds heavier. We danced only a few dances. What started as a polite gesture to bring some food to the table ended up being another evening of feeding, as Melissa devoured several plates of food that I handed her It had gotten to the point where it had gotten sexual even without my touching and talking. She could make herself horny just by eating, which excited me.

The next day I saw Melissa, she had gotten the new catalogs. They were supersized catalogs from small operators. Unlike the commercial catalogs, the women were very large. We spent a long time looking at the pictures and talking about the women's sizes. Melissa didn't mind talking with her mouth full. If she didn't, it could be hours between conversations, as the two of us were always putting food in her mouth. We picked out some clothes, and she put the catalogs aside and said she'd look at them more later.

Several weeks later, when I went to the door Melissa was wearing one new dress. It was a size 60, and she was stuffed full of pillows. I just stared at her waiting for an explanation. She told me to sit down, which I did next to her. Before she got any words out, I started to touch her dress in a romantic way. I hadn't planned on doing that – it just came naturally. We then spent about a half on hour of touching and caressing. When we were done, I just kind of looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I just wanted to see your reaction to a 400 pound Melissa," she said. "I see you don't mind."

"Mind?" I said. "You just looked so sexy.

"So you just wanted to turn me on?" I asked.

"Well, more than that," she said, "I just don't want to go past your upper limit." I told her that I didn't think I had seen a sight as beautiful. I told her that I would be sorry to take the padding out. The rest of the evening was mostly non-verbal except for some very satisfied noises as we caressed and kept her eating.

About 11 O'clock, we were half asleep as Melissa pulled out the padding. "It may be a size 60 dress, but there isn't room for tonight's meal and the padding in there." I asked her if her only reason to get the dress was to test my upper limits. I told her that I knew they didn't come cheap. "Well, it's not wasted," she said, "It WILL fit one day."

"Really?" I said in an aroused tone.

"Yes," she said in an equally aroused tone. "These happy women in the catalog, your reaction to my size, and our frequent sessions on the couch. I'm committed to making it through the 300's."

It took only a few months to get around the 330 point. Her weight gain was faster, since we were seeing each other more, spending more time on the couch with her snacks, and her ability to eat more. Her expanding breasts and midriff were making her formerly lose fitting tops form fitting. Her ever-expanding tummy kept increasing the circumference of her elastic waistband, as the material stretched underneath to silhouette her drooping flesh.

The next time I went to her house, she was wearing new clothes. "I'm pretty much out of the mall stores size range," she said. "I wanted to show you these nice outfits I got from those small businesses. They're very pretty, but also expensive. I also ordered some housecoats from Lane Bryant. They're not very pretty, but I don't mind when I spill food on them."

"Would you ever spill your food?" I teased.

"You know damn well I get food on me all the time. Between spending hours eating on the couch next to you, and eating a lot of gooey creams and ice creams, it's bound to happen. And besides you don't do any better when you're putting the food in my mouth."

She took off her nice outfit and asked if I noticed anything new. I asked her if she got a new bra. It wasn't always easy to tell, since they didn't wear out – she outgrew them. "Yes, and guess what? I'm a double D now, 46DD." I told her that I was surprised she was going up in cup sizes. Most of the women I knew stayed pretty much at the same cup, and here Melissa had gone up two cup sizes. She said she was a little surprised, although she said that many of the changes in her body caught her by surprise. New rolls would appear, and at other times only one part of her body grew.

She put on her Lane Bryant housecoat. It was shapeless and plain. It appeared to be too large, but I assume it was to allow for Melissa's future growth. As soon as she put it on and sat down, I was even more anxious to touch her. After several hours of our eating/petting session on the couch, Melissa told me that she was afraid that the housecoat might turn me off, but she noticed it has the opposite effect. I told her that it turned me on.
She asked why, and after a little thought I came up with several reasons. It was the first outfit that had a double D bra pushing it out, it was larger than her other clothes, but I was afraid of telling her the main reason.

When I was a child, I remember one of the kids had a fat mother who always wore food stained housecoats. Everyone thought she was SO fat. So for me it reminded me of a very fat woman. Melissa said she understood. As she talked she spilled a spoon full of chocolate ice cream that she was spooning in. She insisted it was an "accident."

The next day she was wearing the same housecoat with the chocolate still there. "It's the only housecoat I have," she said. "I ordered several more, but they haven't sent them yet." We ate dinner and she managed to spill a little more on it. She said that was really an accident this time. I told her that the bigger she got, the bigger the target was to spill things. She looked down the end of her breasts and saw her plate, and agreed. After dinner she put the dress in the washer, and I put it in the dryer to avoid disturbing her eating. It was the first time we started out petting on the couch with just her bra and panties.

Melissa's growth through the 300's continued steadily. Time was flying as 330 turned into 340, and then to the halfway point of 300-something. Every part of her body was changing, as she developed another chin, fatter arms, a bigger tummy that slowed her walking. But nothing was as pretty as her breasts. Although the heavier they got, the more they drooped, they remained the most prominent part of her growing body.

Our nightly eating/petting sessions continued. She wore only her housecoats. The different parts of her body pushed outward as she continued to devour candies, ice cream, and other goodies.

By the time she had reached 375, she had outgrown her first housecoat. Her breasts were just too squeezed. Her butt had grown so large that it didn't leave the room in front that her tummy needed.

A couple of months later, Melissa had greeted me at the door wearing the size 60 dress she had worn to test my "400 pound tolerance." She looked absolutely gorgeous. But instead of pillows pushing out the dress, it was her body – her breasts, her large soft drooping tummy, and her wide butt.

When we sat on the couch, I had asked her if she reached the 400-pound point. "Almost," she said. "But after tonight I will be." Then she started sniffling. "I hate to see our nights come to an end."

I asked her why she thought they were coming to an end.

"I don't mean we won't see each other, but I've hit the end of my journey to 400."

I comforted her, first by touching her arms and back, but I ended up touching her breasts and tummy. I started feeding her the snacks she had on the table. Before we realized it, she wanted me to continue feeding her and I wanted her to keep gaining.

The next morning, we brought up the subject again. I think that both of us thought the other person agreed in the heat of passion, and that perhaps after reality set in, we would change our minds. She told me that she'd never been happier in her life. I told her that until I met her I never realized how much I desired a super sized woman. We agreed not to set a target, but just let things take their course.

Thinking that it might end, made our petting/feeding sessions all the more precious. So it seemed like we spent even more time, and got more enjoyment out of it. The problem with not setting a goal, was that we realized a little too late that we hadn't planned her wardrobe. To make things worse, it seemed that she gained all of her weight since her 400-pound milestone in her tummy. Even her loosest dress was hard to get over her tummy. You could see the seams straining, and you could see everything – even her belly button. It would take a week or two to get the next size, since it had to be made. I asked her on our next meeting, if we should wait until she got a new dress before we sat and ate. She told me that she would take a day off from work and make a dress.

When I met her that night, the dress looked like a circus fat lady dress. She explained that was the best she could do in such little time and with no patterns. It turned me on, and we spent the rest of the night working on filling out the extra inches of room in her dress.
 

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